


Judged

by CantSpeakFae



Series: The Scars Souvenir [15]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Episode Revisit + Revision, F/M, Slightly AU from here, Written from Xander's P.O.V
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 10:45:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18248267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CantSpeakFae/pseuds/CantSpeakFae
Summary: It has to be Buffy, just like it had to be her to smash the Master’s bones into dust. Only way past this is through it and he really wants to help her through it.





	Judged

“Will!”   
  
Xander coulda collapsed with relief on the spot at the sight of her, walking back through the halls of the school. Rationally, he _knows_  that there are more important - and more dangerous - things going on than the tumultuous response to his virtually nonexistent love life, but with her just storming out like that, leaving things unresolved, and leaving _him_  confused… well, he couldn’t be more relieved to see her, again.   
  
Willow hugs her arms around herself and turns to face him. “Hey.”   
  
“Where'd you go?”  
  
“Home.”   
  
She doesn’t look as happy to see him, but he can push through that. He smiles at her, resisting the urge to pull her into a hug since she doesn’t seem to want to be touched, but that doesn’t mean he can’t _tell_  her how glad he is to see her.  
  
“I’m glad you came back. We can’t do this without you.”  
  
Apparently, that is the _wrong_  thing to say, because her eyes flash with irritation.  
  
“Let's get this straight. I don't understand it, I don't wanna understand it, you have gross emotional problems, and things are not okay between us. But what's happening right now is more important than that.”  
  
Xander swallows, hard, and looks down at the ground for a second. He gets why Willow is being harsh about this, but that doesn’t make it easier to hear. She’s always been on his side and always been so patiently correcting of him whenever he veered into the wrong attitude about things. To hear her say things like that… well, it sucks. He gets it, but it still sucks.   
  
He nods, anyway, shoving his hands into his pocket. “Okay.”  
  
Willow drops her arms and changes the subject. “What about the Judge? Where do we stand?”  
  
 _Go for funny, Harris. It’s easier to be a comedian than it is to be genuine._  
  
“On a pile of really boring books that say exactly the same thing.”  
  
“Lemme guess: _'no weapon forged.'_ ”  
  
“‘ _'It took an army.'_ ”  
  
“Yeah, where's an army when you need one?” Willow starts to tsk, but Xander’s face lights up, his eyes widening and his lips parting with surprise. “What?”   
  
“Whoa. Whoa!” Xander says, shocked. “I... I think I'm having a thought. Yeah, yeah, yeah, that's a thought. Now I'm having a plan.”  
  
The lights suddenly go out and derail that train of thought all the way from the station.  
  
“...Now I'm having a wiggins.”  
  
Willow looks around, tensing. “What's going on?”  
  
Xander doesn’t know, but he doesn’t feel like sticking around to find out. “Let's get to the library.”  
  
“Willow!” A familiar voice calls, and they both turn to look. “Xander!”   
  
Xander never thought, once in his life, that he’d be _relieved_  to see Deadboy lurking around in the dark, but here he is. Feeling all relieved and sighing and everything.   
  
“Angel.”   
  
“Thank god, you’re okay.” Willow chimed in. “Did you see Buffy?”   
  
“Yeah. What’s up with the lights?”   
  
“I don’t know,” Xander says, but that’s not important now. For all they know, it’s Spike and Drusilla bringing their new friend to the party. And if that’s the case, they really gotta move. “Listen, I think I have an idea.”   
  
“Forget about that for now.” Angel interrupts, and Xander scowls. “I...I got something to show you.”   
  
“Show us?”   
  
Willow sounds as confused as Xander feels, and they exchange a look.  
  
“Yeah,” Angel says, not much with the elaboration. Always gotta be cryptic, even in the face of imminent doom. Go figure. “Xander, go get the others.”   
  
Well, at least they’re moving toward a direction that has answers.  
  
“Ok.”   
  
Xander agrees, but he’s still confused, even as he takes off running. Okay, the others. Find Cordy, find Giles, find Ms. Calendar and - why did Angel send him off by himself? Why didn’t he just go to the library, himself? He turns back around, looking at the dark hallway that he’d just come from. Something’s wrong. Something’s -  
  
“Willow.”   
  
He turns back around and starts running back. Something’s very, very, very wrong here.   
  


* * *

  
Xander bursts back through the door, just as Angel sneaks up behind Willow and grabs her by the throat. Her frightened yelp echoed in the lounge and Xander felt his heart leap up into his throat, his blood running cold. He’s been held by the throat by Angel, before… but, for some reason, he doesn’t get the feeling that it’s just an “act” this time.   
  
“Don’t do that!” He shouts, staring him down.  
  
“Oh, I think I do that.” Angel taunts, his fingers pressing hard into Willow’s skin.  
  
“Angel…” Willow choked out, reaching up to scrabble at his hands, trying to get him to let go of her, but he doesn’t even look like he notices her frantic attempts to get him to let go. He just stands there and grins, like the cat that canary. Xander wouldn’t be shocked if he suddenly coughed up yellow feathers.  
  
“He's not Angel anymore. Are you?” Ms. Calendar asks, still holding up her cross.   
  
Angelus.   
  
That’s what Spike had called him, during the parent/teacher night. That was what the books called him, back when he was evil. But it seems like evil is in the present tense now and it’s threatening to choke the life out of his best friend.  
  
“Wrong. I **AM** Angel.” He said, gleefully, tightening his grip on Willow. Restricting her breathing. “At last!”   
  
“Oh my God.”   
  
It’s all Xander can say. He wants to say something smarter, something bolder, but those are the only words that can make it past his throat.  
  
“I got a message for Buffy.”   
  
Footsteps sound out behind him. Buffy steps forward from the shadows, her expression guarded. And Xander nearly collapses all over again, relief hitting him in a second wave and at least he can _trust_  this feeling. Buffy stares Angel down, her voice steady. “Why don't you give it to me yourself?”  
  
Angelus spins around with Willow to face her. “Well, it's not really the kind of message you tell. It sort of involves finding the bodies of all your friends.”  
  
He tightens his grip on Willow even more and she lets out another pained yelp. Xander’s knees threaten to buckle at the sound. Not her. Not Willow. Anything else but that - fuck, take him instead.   
  
“This can't be you.”  
  
Angelus tsks. “Gee, we already covered that subject.”  
  
“Angel, there must be some part of you inside that still remembers who you are.”  
  
“Dream on, schoolgirl.” Angelus taunts.   
  
Xander crosses the room as quietly as he can, taking the cross from Ms. Calendar as Angel taunts Buffy, starting toward him and squeezing the cross the tightly that it might leave a permanent indent in his hand… but as long as Buffy keeps him talking he knows he _will_  make a permanent indent in Angel’s skull.   
  
“Your boyfriend is dead. You're all gonna join him.”  
  
Buffy’s eyes flash. “Leave Willow alone, and deal with me.”  
  
“But she's so cute,” Angelus said, pinching Willow’s cheek.“And helpless. Really a turn on.”  
  
 _ **Fuck. You. Dead. Boy.**_  
  
That’s Xander’s only thought as he shoves the cross into Angel’s face from behind. He reels back with a growl and drops Willow, who cries out and flails back into Xander, knocking them both into the wall. Xander keeps a tight hold on her and the cross, ready to shove it through Angel’s eye if he even /thinks/ about lunging at them, but he’s already moving on. He stalks down the hall, shoving Ms. Calendar away and reaching Buffy, grabbing her by her shoulders and making her gasp.  
  
Xander can’t hear what he says to her, but he kisses Buffy, hard, and then shoves her away. He and Willow scramble to their feet as Angel ducks out the door, and Xander struggles to get out the right words, his gaze falling on Buffy.  
  
“Buffy, you okay?”  
  
Buffy just stares at the door.  
  
“Buffy?”  
  


* * *

  
Giles is pacing.   
  
It gives Xander a wiggins, but he’s too tired to tell him to stop. Just… stands there, near the table where Willow and Cordelia and Buffy are sitting. Ms. Calendar leans back against the shelves. They’re all… lost. The confusion is heavy in the air.   
  
“And we're absolutely certain that, that Angel has reverted to his former self?” Giles asks, looking over at them. And Xander has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. As it is, he can’t help his snippy tone.  
  
“Yeah, uh, we’re all certain. Anyone not feeling certain here?”   
  
Willow looked up and sniffled. Bruises are forming on her throat, bruises in the shape of Angelus’ fingers, and Xander hates that guy even more. “Giles, you wouldn’t have believed him. He was so… he came here to _kill_  us.”   
  
“What are we gonna do?” Cordelia asked, looking up with exhaustion in her eyes.   
  
Xander feels that exhaustion, too. Deep in his bones. He’s so sick of always running for his life. Sick of there always being a new monster to fight. And this time, they lost their best source of information to that dark side. A monster on top of a monster and this one could actually do Buffy some damage. He looks to Giles when Cordelia asks what they’re going to do… waiting for the answer. Waiting for a dose of hope to lighten the situation.  
  
But Giles doesn’t offer any comfort. “I’m leaning towards blind panic, myself.”   
  
“Rupert, don’t talk like that. The kids.” Ms. Calendar said, reproachfully, glancing at them.   
  
Xander wants to cry. He just stares at the floor, though. He figures he doesn’t have the right. If anyone deserves it, it’s Buffy or Willow. They’re the ones who were actually hurt by that guy, tonight.   
  
“I'm sorry. It's just that things are bad enough with the Judge here. Angel crossing over to the other side... I-I-I wasn't prepared for that.”  
  
“None of us were.”  
  


* * *

  
The grieving part of the night doesn’t last long. Not for Xander, at least. Something snaps in him when he watches Buffy run out of the room. Angel really hurt her. He hurt her in a way that no other monster has and he can’t just stand here, in the horrified silence. There are monsters to deal with.   
  
“This is great. There’s an unkillable demon in town, Angel’s joined his team, the Slayer is a basket case… I’d say we’ve hit rock bottom.”   
  
“I have a plan,” Xander says.   
  
“Oh, no, here’s a lower place,” Cordelia mutters, but there’s not much bite to it and Xander ignores it.  
  
“I don't know what's up with Angel, but I think I may have a way to deal with this Judge guy.” He says, settling down at the table. He just can’t stand anymore.   
  
“What do we do?” Willow asks, looking over at him with hope.  
  
And his heart sinks. He doesn’t want to have to say this so soon, but…  
  
“I think, um. I think I may need Cordelia for this one.”   
  
Willow drops her gaze down to the table. Xander pushes on.  
  
“And we may need wheels.”   
  
“Well, my car is…” Cordelia starts, but Xander shakes his head.   
  
“It might have to be bigger.”   
  
Willow perks right back up. “No problem. I'll get Oz. He has a van.”  
  
Xander nods. Yeah, that could work. He takes a deep breath, centering himself. This is going to work. It has to.   
  
“Good.” He looks at Cordelia and nods again. “Okay.”   
  
“Care to let me in on the plan I’m a part of?” Cordelia asked, looking at him curiously.  
  
“No.”   
  
Cordelia looked surprised, sitting up and then _standing_  up, her hands on her hips. “Why not?”   
  
“Because,” Xander says, patiently. “If I tell you, then you won’t do it. Just meet me at Willow’s house in half an hour. And wear something trashy…” He looks at her and goes for a joke. It’s a mean one, but it’s all he’s got. “Er.”   
  
He rises and walks off. Time to get his head ready. He’s gonna need all of his wits about him if he has even half a chance at pulling this off.  
  


* * *

  
There’s an army base just outside of Sunnydale. Xander’s never really known why, but figured it was just one of those things that Sunnydale had. This town is a fishbowl, and everything in it is fake and hollow, bright and shiny and meant to distract them, to keep them from leaving. And at least this can be of some use to them. It has to be of some use to them. With Buffy gone and dealing, they’re outta all other options.  
  
“Wait here,” Xander says when Oz pulls the van up to the curb and parks. “When you guys see that window open, get out the ladder, come up, we'll pass you the package, okay?”   
  
Oz seems surprisingly unperturbed by this plan. “Okay.”   
  
Willow is less chill, chewing on her bottom lip, but doesn’t argue. “Be careful.”   
  
Xander nods, taking a deep breath… and then clambering out of the van. The first part is the easiest part of the plan, but the most nerve-wracking, too. He pulls out the bolt cutters he “borrowed” from the utility closet where he and Cordy had done most of their making out and starts to cut through the fence, moving as quickly and as efficiently as he possibly can with shaking hands and shallow breathing. But he gets the job done and pushes the fence aside to squeeze through, with Cordelia right behind him.   
  
“The security here really is a joke. I should, uh, report it.” He says, going for funny, but his voice wavers slightly.   
  
“Who am I supposed to be again?” Cordelia asked, looking around nervously.   
  
“You're supposed to be a girl. Think you can handle it?”  
  
That rightfully earns him a slap on the arm but Xander still has to bite his tongue to keep from grinning as they sneak along the side of the building, creeping behind a stack of crates and looking around. The coast seems clear enough, so they continue past a truck. They’re gettin’ close, he just has to reach the door and -  
  
“Halt!”   
  
Shit.   
  
Xander raises his arms, immediately, still staring at the door.  
  
“Identify yourself right the hell now.”   
  
Think fast. Think fast. Oh, god, his one weakness. Fast thinking. He swallows, hard.  
  
“Uh… Private Harris with the uh, 33rd.”   
  
“33rd are on maneuvers.” The soldier says, eyebrows raised.  
  
“Right! Uh, I'm on leave.” He says, turning around slowly. “From them.”  
  
“You always spend your leave snooping around the armory, pal?” The Soldier asks, and Xander’s honestly surprised that they’re having a conversation. “And who is she?”  
  
“Hi. I'm not a soldier.” Cordelia says, glancing at Xander. “Right?”  
  
 _Cordelia? Now would be the time to shut the he-_  
  
Xander starts to slowly approach the guard, hoping that his expression is reflecting more camaraderie than abject terror, but he keeps his hands up. Just in case.   
  
“Look, I… I just want to give her the tour. Uh, you know what I’m saying.”   
  
“The tour?”   
  
“Well, you know the ladies. They like to see the big guns. Gets them all hot and bothered.” Xander says, lying through his teeth like it’s the only thing saving his ass from certain doom. Actually, it might be. “Can you cut me some slack, gimme a blind eye?”   
  
The soldier tilts his head. “And why should I?”   
  
This would usually be the part where Xander fished for his wallet and handed over some cash, but he’s got a better idea. Or, at least, he thinks it’s a better idea.   
  
“Well, if you do, I won't tell Colonel Newsome that your boots ain't regulation, your post wasn't covered,” Xander says, grabbing the M-16 and straightening it in the guy’s grasp so that he’s holding it properly and not like he’s scared of the damn thing. “and you hold your gun like a sissy girl.”   
  
He clenches his jaw but tightens his grip on the rifle and sneers at Xander. “You got twenty minutes, nimrod.”   
  
“I just need five,” Xander said, a little too honestly, before realizing what that says about him and pausing before he reaches the door. “Uh, forget I said that last part.”   
  
The Soldier just makes a show outta checking his watch and Xander opens the door to let Cordelia in, giving him one last thumbs up before he ducked inside, himself, and exhaled so sharply that he nearly made himself dizzy. That was a close one.   
  
“Okay, what was that? And who are you?” Cordelia asked, turning on him the second that the door was closed behind them.  
  
“Remember Halloween, I got turned into a soldier?” Xander asks.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Well, I still remember all of it. I know procedure, ordnance, access codes, everything. I know the whole layout for this base, and I'm pretty sure I can put together an M-16 in 57 seconds.”   
  
Cordelia blinked, and then straightened up some like she did when she was about to start flirting. Except, what comes out of her mouth is her usual derision for him. “Well, I’m sort of impressed. But let’s just find the thing and get out of here.”   
  
“Okay.” Xander agrees, scanning the shelves. Not what he’s looking for, not what he’s looking for… and behind him, Cordelia sits on a crate.   
  
“So, does looking at guns really make girls wanna have sex? That's scary.” She says, idly.  
  
Xander doesn’t look away from his search, but his eyebrows furrow. He’d just been saying that in the hopes that it’d get Private Pinhead to give him some space to put his plan into action. How was he supposed to know if it was true? “Yeah, I guess.”   
  
He expects the conversation to stop there, but it doesn’t. Cordelia presses on.   
  
“Well, does looking at guns make you wanna have sex?”   
  
Gulp.   
  
He gets the sudden sense that he’s opened a door that he can’t even walk through, cause there are two big nasties running around and he sighs, his tone a little more terse than strictly necessary in light of _that_ fact.   
  
“I’m seventeen. Looking at linoleum makes me wanna have sex.”   
  
Cordelia just stares at him.  
  


* * *

  
Gettin’ the thing turned out to be a lot easier than Xander anticipated. Holding the thing overnight was objectively terrifying. He didn’t go home, just stayed the night with Oz, in his van, and let the girls head back to get some R&R and had some awkward alone time with Oz and conversations he’d never again repeat, all for the sake of watching the thing.   
  
But, finally, the sun set again and they were bursting back in the library in record time, with Oz holding one end of the crate while he carried the other, lifting it up and then setting it down onto Giles’ desk in his private office.   
  
Xander smiles grimly. “Happy Birthday, Buffy. I hope you like the colour.”   
  
He steps back, giving her space to observe while Giles hands over a crowbar. She’s still not her patented Buffy-self… and that worries him. He knows there’s no time-frame for something like this, but they need her at her best - or at least as best as she can manage - if this has any chance at all of working.  
  
“Giles, we go to the factory first, but they might not be there. They're on the offensive. We need to figure out where they'd go.” Buffy says, her voice hollow.  
  
Giles lifts on the crowbar and breaks the clasp. “Agreed.” He says, opening the box.   
  
There’s no gasping, or chorus of awe, but there _is_  something like determination in Buffy’s gaze and that’s good enough for him.  
  
“This is good.” She says.   
  
Xander looks up at the sound of footsteps, surprised to see Ms. Calendar wavering in the doorway instead of coming all the way in. Tension suddenly fills the room, thick and palpable, and he suddenly gets the feeling that they missed something while they were stealing and then guarding this thing.   
  
“Do you, uh…” Ms. Calendar says and Giles looks over at her with a pained expression. “Is there something I can do?”   
  
Okay, someone’s gotta fill him in on the latest, cause there’s some serious -  
  
“Get out,” Buffy says, her voice sharp.   
  
“I-I just want to help.”   
  
“She said get out,” Giles said, looking away.  
  
And Xander doesn’t know what’s the what, but he gets the sense that he’s not gonna like it in the long run. But there’s no time to discuss, now. He steps forward, instead, tapping his fingers against the box and looking at Buffy.  
  
“Do you want me to show you how to use it?”   
  
That’s the most important part of the plan, as far as he’s concerned. He knows he could do it - knows he could lift it and that he wouldn’t miss, because the know-how is already in his brain. But it can’t be him. It has to be Buffy, just like it had to be her to smash the Master’s bones into dust. Only way past this is through it and he wants to help her through it.  
  
Buffy nods, resolute. “Yes, I do.”   
  


* * *

  
The Factory is deserted by the time they get there, but they’d all been expecting that, so disappointment levels are at their minimum.   
  
“I knew it,” Buffy says, quietly, walking up to the table and leaning against it. Giles looks around like there’s gonna be any chance that Drusilla or Angel left a note as to where they were going. A map or something.   
  
“We haven’t a bead on where they would go?”   
  
Buffy sighs, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. She looks so small and tired. “I don’t know. Uh… somewhere crowded, I guess. I mean, the Judge needs bodies right?”   
  
“The Bronze?”   
  
“It’s closed tonight,” Xander said, shaking his head no at Willow’s suggestion. And he has to admit that he’s sorta relieved. He’s not sure how much more tragedy he can take having at that place.   
  
“There's not a lot of choices in Sunnydale. It's not like people are gonna line up to get massacred.”  
  
Oz perks up at that, still strangely impassive. “Uh, guys? If I were gonna line up, I know where I'd go.”   
  


* * *

  
Xander can’t remember the last time he went to the mall. It’s been a while - maybe not since Jesse died, at least, because they used to come to the arcade together but now he can’t stand the sight of that place. But, Oz was right. This is the perfect place for a massacre and he lifts his shoulders, balancing the weight of the crate that he’s carrying with Giles’ help as Buffy takes the lead. She marches like troops to their last battle and Xander hopes that errant thought isn’t an omen.  
  
“Everybody keep back. Damage control only. Take out any lesser vamps if you can. I'll handle the Smurf.”   
  
Chaos hasn’t really started, yet. Xander can see people freezing and bursting into ashes as the Judge reaches out, but it’s so crowded that people aren’t aware yet… or maybe they just can’t move at all and are helpless to do anything but burn where they stand. Either way, it makes Xander sick to his stomach. Especially when he sees Angelus and Drusilla standing beside the guy. Watching. Enjoying the show. Drusilla even bounces with glee.  
  
“Oh, goody!” She calls.   
  
“We need to distract him.” Xander says, but Buffy’s already ahead of him. She pulls out her crossbow and aims, firing and landing the bolt in his chest. The arcs of energy disappear when his concentration breaks and the people are dazed but not burning anymore. The Judge grabs at the bolt and pulls it from his chest.  
  
“Who dares?”  
  
Xander scrambles to open the crate, revealing Buffy’s present.  
  
“Think I got his attention,” Buffy says, her voice cold.   
  
“You’re a fool.” The Judge calls, no fear in his eyes. “No weapon forged can stop me.”   
  
Buffy lowers her bow. “That was then.”  
  
Xander takes a breath and then pulls the weapon out of the crate, handing it to her and watching as she raises the rocket launcher onto her shoulder.  
  
“This is now.”  
  
She powers it on and Xander takes immense satisfaction in watching the way that Angelus’ eyes widen in fear before he glances over at Drusilla. He can stay to watch them run, he’s being yanked down behind the snack counter by Cordelia too quickly.   
  
“What's that do?”  
  
Buffy pulls the trigger. It’s the first time he’s ever heard the sound and yet it’s immensely familiar to Xander. But the weirdness of that can’t rival the weirdness of knowing that Buffy’s just blown him in, made him vanish in an explosion of flame and smoke. And that’s when the screaming starts. Body parts are still falling when Xander peers over the counter and then climbs up.   
  
“Best present ever,” Buffy tells him, handing the weapon back over. He holds it and nods.  
  
“Knew you’d like it.”   
  
“Do you think he's dead?” Willow asked, timidly.  
  
“We can't be sure,” Buffy says, already looking past them. Looking for Angel. “Pick up the pieces and keep them separate.”   
  
And then she’s gone. And Xander swallows hard. One successful plan did not a war win… there was still so much more to come and he doesn’t think any of them are ready for it. If what the books say about Angelus is even half true… they’re all screwed in a royal way.   
  
Behind him, he hears Cordy complaining.   
  
“Pieces? We get the pieces. Our job sucks!”

  
  
_Out of the frying pan, into the fire. There’s still plenty of ways to burn, as long as Angel is running around._


End file.
